


Are You Nasty?

by callmealexandra, targaryxngorx



Category: panic!at the disco - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-16
Updated: 2015-05-16
Packaged: 2018-03-30 18:37:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 480
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3947413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmealexandra/pseuds/callmealexandra, https://archiveofourown.org/users/targaryxngorx/pseuds/targaryxngorx





	Are You Nasty?

The car was generic, but the man inside, however, was not. He was tall with slick black hair and deep brown eyes. These eyes are full of secrets. The car came to a halt as he spotted new prey. The woman was short, and dressed skimpily to say the very least. She was puffing away at a cigarette. The woman seemed to be waiting for something, or rather, someone.   
He pulled up next to her, beckoning her to come closer. As she approached, he began to grin. The woman crossed her arms and leaned against the open car window, her breasts partially displayed.  
"Lookin' to have a good time, sweet thang?" She said, her think southern accent noticable.   
The man nodded, unlocking the car door so that she may enter. He watched her with interest as she made an attempt to sexily enter the car.   
"Wow! Your car is so clean . Almost brand new!" She exclaimed, her excitement obviously artificial. She got no reaction from it.   
She finished her cigarette, tossing it out of the open window.  
"We should just fu-" She began before being cut short by the man's quiet mumbling.   
"What?" She asked.  
He cocked his head to the side.  
"Are you nasty?" He whispered.  
He roughly pressed his mouth to hers, inhaling like her breath was his last. And like that, she was dead.   
///  
"I just don't understand!" The old detective shouted at his team, slamming the police reports on the table in front of him. He began to pace. "That's the fifth death this month involving an old black car and a man that no witnesses can seem to describe! No evidence except that!"  
One mousy young man, an intern, raised his hand.   
"Yes, Turner?" The detective asked with a touch of exasperation to his hoarse voice.  
"All of the victims were prostitutes, sir."   
The old man considered this for a moment before nodding.   
"I guess you're right, Turner. Though, I believe they much rather like being called "entertainers". Ha!"  
Before everyone could finish their small laugh, Jane Jackson shot out of her seat, conveying a ridiculous idea to the rest of her teammates. They all (reluctantly) agreed.   
Next thing she knew, she was dressed as a common whore, and boy, did she feel like one! There was a small camera, barely noticable, stuck in her cleavage to catch the criminal's image. While turning around and around impatiently on the street, receiving all kinds of gross looks from all kinds of people, she counted all of the black cars.   
This was until a man came, whirling her around so that her chest (and the camera) was pressed against him. The camera could no longer capture anything except the rep colour of his vest. The incubus leaned into Ms. Jackson's ear.  
"Are you nasty?" He whispered, pressing his mouth to hers and sucking the life from her.


End file.
